


Sins, Past and Present

by CavannaRose



Series: Rose Wilson Fics [25]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Terror Titans (Comics)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Betrayal, F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, High School, Holding Hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-11-03 19:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Rose is sent to Smallville to recapture a weapon for the group known as Cadmus. Somewhere along the way, she realizes that there are things more important than the job.





	1. Chapter 1

The bell rang, a deafening sound that tensed up all her muscles, her first instinct to go for the swords she wasn’t currently wearing. Swearing under her breath, she straightened her black leather jacket for the tenth time. Rose Wilson stood in the hallway, observing as the last few stragglers scurried off to their classrooms. At first, she had worried that she would stand out amidst the teens with her long silver hair, but seeing the riot of blues, greens and pinks that they sported, she had relaxed. Once more her scarred fingers drifted up to the patch over her eye, checking to make sure it was in place. Unlike her usual, this one had no strings, and the colour blended well. As long as she kept her locks styled so that they draped dramatically over the left side of her face, no one would be the wiser unless they got damn close, and she wasn’t planning on letting anyone that near, at least not until she had her target where she wanted him.

She looked up, caught the teacher beckoning at her through the door, and bit back a groan. Highschool. What a fucking joke. Once upon a time this had been her dream, this veneer of normality that she was donning like a Hallowe’en costume. She knew now that it wasn’t for her. The Madisons were dead, and so was any hope that Rose would be more than what her father had forged her into. As she walked through the door she mentally went over the instructions that Kuttler had forwarded her on the job one last time. Locate the clone. Capture him. Bring him to Cadmus for termination. He was dangerous. Volatile. A hazard to society. She could do this.

She stood in front of the classroom, barely glancing at the assembled teens through the hair hanging in front of her face. The clone was easy to spot, his features were already beginning to show traces of the man he was made from. She looked at the wholesome crowd, and almost sneered. Buttoned shirts and blouses as far as the eye could see. Maybe she would stand out, in her skin-tight jeans full of rips, midriff-exposing crop top and studded leather jacket. The teacher gestured to the room. “Perhaps someone would like to take Miss Wilson under their wing? Show her around the school, go over the rules… the dress code, that sort of thing.” There it was. That note of censure. Her lips turned up at one corner, smirking.

Several hands went up around the room, a bubbly looking blonde in a knee length skirt… seriously, what decade did she think it was? A prim looking redheaded geek. Some jock-ish dudebro.   “Whatever.” Her voice was low, husky, as she shook her head. Ignoring them all, and the teacher, she stalked out among the desks, dropping into one as close to the clone as she could get. At least it had the benefit of being near the window. She stared out into the parking lot, where her 2008 Ninja 250 sat. It was a second-hand purchase, and nowhere near as nice as her Hayabusa, but it was more suited to a highschool student, which was what she was pretending to be. In this room, for the next few days, she was not one of the highest paid mercenary assassins in the field.

The teacher frowned and shook his head, but went back to his lecture. “Great. We were working on piecewise functions, does anyone remember what those are?” Very quickly Rose tuned him out, instead raising her eye to surreptitiously study her target. He looked straight-laced. Like a down home country boy. It was almost a shock to imagine him as some unhinged weapon, but then again, she’d faced her fair share of being underestimated. Very few people expected so much violence from someone her size. More fool was them, and she wouldn’t be a victim of that kind of idiocy.

Just then the target scooted his chair closer to hers, resting both his elbows on her desk as he leaned forward to whisper to her. “Hey.” With a sigh she rolled her eye, lifting her chin to look at him. "Didn't catch your name. The name's Conner. Conner Kent." He extended his hand to her, offering a handshake. What kind of kid was he pretending to be with that shit? He’d stand out more than she did. If he wanted the world to know that he wasn’t what he seemed, he was going about it perfectly.

Rose raised her eyebrow, shaking her head, lips tilting up at one corner in a smirk, though she didn’t take his hand. Instead, she buried both hers in her jacket pockets, leaning back in her chair, away from him. It was a practiced move, it put some distance between them, let him feel like he pursued her, when in fact she was hunting him. Not only that, but it tugged the small shirt she was wearing tighter across her chest, drawing it up to show more of the taut muscles of her abdomen. She watched him for a moment, gauging his reaction. “Conner. An Irish name. Mean’s dog-lover. Did you know that?” Her voice was low, teasing.

She’d considered several false names to use during the mission, but she didn’t want to slip at an integral time. She’d stuck with her own, the one she hadn’t gone by most of her life. Rose Wilson. It still sounded strange to her, and she hated leaving her mother’s last name behind, but she also didn’t want to sully it with the tasks she was completing these days. Very few would know enough to connect her with her mercenary father yet, so she wasn’t overly concerned about being outed that way. The smirk cleared from her face, her usual expression of casual disinterest taking its place as she looked around the room. “Pleasure’s mine, Conner Kent. My name is Rose. I think the instructor is trying to get your attention.”

The teacher was, in fact, standing beside them, glaring down at the pair. “I appreciate wanting to get to know the new student, Mister Kent, but perhaps that would be better served during free time? I will assume that this is you volunteering to be her official guide to Smallville High School. Perhaps you should review the Code of Behavioural Conduct yourself as you explain to Miss Wilson how things work around here.” Rose quirked her eyebrow at Conner, giving a short laugh. “Something funny, Miss Wilson?”

“No Sir. Nothing at all.” She made eye contact with Conner, rolling her eye in sympathetic disgust.


	2. Chapter 2

She watched as the clone ran his hand through his hair, scattering his locks attractively over his forehead. She had to admit, he was an attractive target. It was unfortunate that she was going to have to mess up that pretty face of his. Deadly packages came in pretty paper though. She’d made a living off that very fact, and she wouldn’t let his charming behaviour take her off task. She was here on a mission, and the people she was working for did not take failure well.

The clone – Conner, she had to remember the name, she didn’t want to slip, elbowed her lightly in the side, catching her attention again. She watched as his eyes traveled up and down her frame, proving he wasn’t immune to her own package. That was good, it would make things easier if she didn’t have to coerce him. He was practically a lamb to slaughter already. Fucking teenage boys. "Guess you're stuck with me for the day, Rose." He whispered.

The mercenary gave a little laugh, leaning forward to pop the collar of his buttoned shirt up, knowing that this close he could probably see the eye patch through her hair, and not particularly caring. She was setting a very specific kind of bait, and if he was looking at her face not at the cleavage she was currently showing off, she had to know that sooner rather than later. “If I don’t ditch you somewhere along the way, Smallville. A girl’s got shit to do, and I can’t have some Momma’s boy griping at me the whole fucking time.” She grinned, settling back in her seat and tucking a cigarette behind one ear.

“What do you hicks do for fun around here? Tractor racing? Cow tipping?” A small smile skated across her face as she needled the boy across from her. She had to admit, she was enjoying the teasing, the flirting. It was almost, normal. Of course, she was also actively planning how to take out the boy. She’d felt how broad those shoulders were when she’d messed with his collar. He wasn’t some scrawny weakling, and he wouldn’t go down easy. Part of the joy on her face was from knowing they had a good fight ahead of them. Violence was a language she was extremely fluent in, and she was rather fond of it.

"First of all, I'm no hick. Grew up in the city. Just came here for this." He gestured at the class around him. Rose noticed with pleasure the way his eyes shifted from her cleavage to her face, and back again. Exactly as expected. Teenage boys, no matter the breed, were all the same when it really counted. It made this job easier than it could have been. "We do all those things, and then some. Best thing to do 'round here is go out during the night. Smallville's got everything a teen could want. And you know what? As your tour guide, I'll show you. After class."

Rose resisted the urge to roll her eye. Of course they had tractor racing and cow tipping. She could practically smell the wholesomeness of the small town, and it was vomit-inducing. She missed the city, the traffic and noise and large crowds to get lost in. She needed this job over fast, or else she might go mad out here amidst the corn. “Oh my stars this must be my lucky day.” The sarcasm dripped heavily from her voice, but the corner of her lips turned up in a smirk to ease the sting. “You may not be a hick, Smallville, but you sure seem to have settled in here just fine.” She gestured to the class. “Look around, you hardly stand out here. Maybe a little less plaid.”

"Oh you don't even know." Conner whispered, a small smirk on his face. Rose arched an eyebrow, but didn’t pry. The arrogant son of a bitch really was going to sit there and tease at his extra-terrestrial origin for his own amusement. Suddenly the urge to punch him in the face was almost impossible to resist. She fisted her hand, counted to ten, tried to think of a way to distract herself before she blew her cover right here and now.

Rose pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her jacket pocket, tapping one out and tucking it behind her ear before casting a glance through the window. Bike was still there. She was still stuck inside listening to some boring loser in a polo shirt drone on about mathematic functions. She had a funny feeling she was about to become the worst student Smallville High had ever seen. “What say you we skip next class and get a head start on you showing me around to all those supposedly fun activities that this Podunk town has to offer?”

He was watching her. The way she moved, the minute adjustments to position, but she didn’t think he was really absorbing what they meant. She was keeping her back towards a wall, eye flickering from window to door, and then back to her target. Always on the watch. He leaned in, still whispering. "I.... wouldn't do that. Not on your first day. They got you on probation the moment you set foot in here. Trust me, I know. They had eyes on me like this.” He rubs two fingers together. “I'd save it, toots. Don't worry. One more subject, then its lunch and I can start our tour then. Deal?"

Rose was practically vibrating. She reached out, wrapping her hand around his fist, and squeezing. She was careful not to exert more than the strength a normal teenage girl would have to offer, but damn if she wasn’t tempted to go toe to toe with the arrogant prat right here, right now. “If you _ever_ refer to me as toots again, I will chop you into little pieces and feed you to the tractors, Smallville.” She pushed away, pulling out an empty notebook and hunkering behind it. “Fucking hick.” With the book in her face, she struggled for self-control. Her temper was spiking, the serum in her veins making the emotions roiling within her harder to control. She couldn’t afford that kind of reaction, though, so she stifled it. Fighting it off.

Lowering her paper slightly, she glared at the clone. “This tour better be the best one I’ve ever been on, hot shot. You’re on thin ice already. I’m feeling generous, though, and you’re the only one amidst these cattle that looks like you might know what a good time actually is.” She lowered her voice, making it husky and suggestive, looking up at him through her hair and lashes. “Don’t disappoint me.” There. That ought to bait the hook enough to catch a teenage boy looking for some fun. She had to remember, her job was to entice, and all her temper would do was spoil the job. She couldn’t afford stupid mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

Break came, and hundreds of bodies poured into the halls. Not having much in the way of choice, Rose followed the clone towards the cafeteria. The lunch line was particularly busy. The noise, the smells. Christ, these kids were unbearable.  Nevertheless, Conner walked with Rose towards the slow moving masses. "Alright. We start the tour after lunch. And the thing about lunch is, if you're not first, you're last. And when you're last, you get all the bad food. All the others got the good ones.”

She smirked as the young clone tried to teach her the ins and outs of the highschool pecking order. It was amusing, somehow, that this lab-grown alien had more experience with normal life than she did. She wasn’t mad, but it was hard not to laugh out loud. Despite popular belief she did have a sense of humour, it was just strange and a little dark. Twisted even. She flashed him a smile that was more a baring of teeth, walking briskly past the line of hungry students waiting for their turn at the trough. Nearing the front of the line, she considered the jocks assembled there with their already full trays, laughing and joking like they were lords of this small kingdom.

With her smile still in place, Rose sauntered up to one of them, and with a move that almost looked practiced, slid his tray out of his hands. Blowing him a kiss, she gave that husky laugh of hers. “Thanks for fetching me lunch, big guy. It’s appreciated.” She immediately turned her back on him, heading towards where Conner was. It took the jock a second to process what had happened, but she heard the shout of protest behind her, she just didn’t care. There was absolutely nothing some high school athlete could do to her. He was no match. She turned around, looking over her shoulder and up as he approached her from behind.

Her voice lowered, a distinct chill tinging it. “Can I help you in some way?” Maybe it was the tone of her voice, or the glare coming from her single eye, but the boy froze in his tracks, mumbling and tripping as he tried to voice his dissatisfaction. Bright red, he finally just shook his head. “That’s what I thought.” Turning again, she gave Conner a bright smile. “Come along then, let’s find a table, then we can get that grand and exciting tour out of the way.”

"...Okay. Impressive, I'll give you that." He led them to the corner table, off on its own. No one sitting nearby. "Alright, Rose. Bold move. You've already seen the jocks. Now onto the other groups here." With each one he mentioned, he gave a slight indication with his chin. "We've got the dweebs and the nerds. The cheerleaders. Decent. Not like the ones in the films. Debate team right there. They're full of crap, but eavesdropping on them never disappoints. Farmers' kids. Peaceful. Somehow, they get picked on more than the dweebs. Stood up for them once didn't end well. Goths. Less said about them, the better. Yadda, yadda, yadda which leaves us. The strays." He pointed the spoon and fork to himself, then her.

A small smile tugged up the corner of Rose’s lips, but she took a moment, pretending to focus on her milk carton. She was amused by the clone’s rundown of the school groups. It was emotional, almost completely devoid of actual facts, more like his visceral reactions to each group. That was interesting. It said a lot about him. She had expected something clinical. Statistics. She took a swig from the milk carton, gently replacing it before she made eye contact with the target.  The fact that she didn’t like milk was moot. She was here as an average American teenager, and she would drink the disgusting cow juice as if it was the finest whiskey if that was what it took to maintain her cover.

“I’m not sure what’s more interesting. The fact that you classify yourself as a stray, or the fact that you lump me in with you.” Her eye is sparkling with good humour, only half feigned. She didn’t expect him to be this interesting, but she certainly wasn’t going to protest it. She could kill an interesting person just as easily as a boring one, the personality just made it more fun. Fun was good. Rose liked having fun. She reached across the Formica table and gently touched the top of the clone’s hand, not quite taking it, but offering touch. It was a studied gesture, practiced, something she would never do just for herself, would never have thought to do if she hadn’t watched young couples do it all on their own.

"Yeah well it takes one to know one. Besides, you being the new kid here, you're basically late to join in on the other groups. Market's closed, and if you wanna get it on the action, you're gonna have to double the effort." Conner quipped as he took a bite from his spoon, swallowing against a tingling sensation within his very own stomach. Was that a defect from his growth? No... It was simply butterflies. His hand was warm to the touch, though he seemed suddenly frozen, almost inclined to pull away. Rose knew she had surprised him with her hot and cold act. For some damn reason, it worked on men every time. She couldn’t understand it. Personally, she liked some fucking consistency.

She let her smile grow, ducking her head so the hair covered more of her face and she was looking up at him through her lashes and her own silvery locks. The smile spread slowly, sultry, her voice dropping down to a husky whisper. “You’re more interesting than I first thought, Conner. People don’t often surprise me. I certainly didn’t expect it from this…. town.” Slowly she began to withdraw her hand. He could take it or not, but she wouldn’t keep the offer on the table forever. It wasn’t in her nature.

Conner's inner instincts took over, and as she was retracting her hand, the Clone slid his fingers below her hand before catching on softly; effectively holding her hand. "The tour might be dangerous. Best hold hands for protection." He said almost nonchalantly, struggling to stay calm and finish his meal. Laughter danced in her eye at his bravado, but she let him have the moment. After all, he was entertaining, and in her line of work, you learned to treasure the moments that made you laugh. She’d still take him in, or out if need be, when the time came. Didn’t matter how real he became, a job was a job.

Rose laughed, instead of giving in to the dark thoughts that tugged at the corners of her mind. She had to earn the Clone’s trust before she could eliminate the danger he posed to those around him. If she didn’t, then there was no chance that she would ever get him alone. Alone was necessary, if she wanted to limit collateral damage and personal exposure. She was an easy face to remember, so the trick was not to be looked at too hard. Instead, she let her own fingers slide comfortably along the warmth of his skin, twining with Conner’s. “Dangerous? This little old place?”

She turned his hand over, trailing a finger along the lines in his palm as if it was an absent-minded gesture. She could tell they were strong hands, calloused from helping out on the farm of the humans who had so mistakenly taken him in. She had her own callouses, different. Callouses from hours training with weapons. Her skin was pale against the warm tan that his had taken on from being out in the sun, the few scars on her fingers almost vanishing in the paleness of her own flesh. He didn’t seem to have any scars, and a frown wrinkled her brow, but she kept it as hidden as she could.

“I guess I’m lucky that I have a big strong farm boy to protect me, if this place is that dangerous. If you’re done, maybe we could start that tour? Or is the smell of some of these lunches the real danger that we will be facing today?” Her voice was light, teasing. For the moment, she was letting him take the lead.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose knew exactly how the clone had gotten so strong. It had nothing to do with farm work, though she didn’t doubt he did the chores to help maintain his cover. Lifting hay. Milking cows. Carrying the tractor. Destroying his enemies. All in the day of an artificially created being of great power and few morals. She smiled at the confusion in the clone’s eyes. She’d grabbed him by the collar just an hour ago, and now she was holding his hand. Keep them guessing, that was her motto. Keep the freak off balance, and he’d be putty in her calloused palms.

"Mhmm. Real dangerous. Kids running around the hallways like the end of the world, slippery floors left by the treacherous janitor's mop, etc." Conner laughed at her his own joke, half chewed food in his mouth. Rose did her best not to flinch. Apparently clones were not above the small disgusting habits of teenaged boys. "Alright. You seem so eager. I'm not one to deny a woman what she wants." That being said, Conner left his food unfinished, going against the teachings of Ma Kent herself. "Follow me." He said, leading her out of the cafeteria with the hand that held hers.

She knew he was a fabricated human, the laboratory creation of men of few morals, and that her job was very clear here. Despite that, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the warmth of another person’s skin against hers. She couldn’t remember the last time someone held her hand. Wintergreen, maybe? She wouldn’t allow that to soften her to the clone, though. Wilsons were focused. Wilsons got jobs done. Wilsons did not fall victim to stupid teenage female emotions that made their heart rate increase minutely. That wasn’t butterflies in her stomach; that was the nervous anticipation for a job. Simple.

Settling into the roll of new girl at school, she gently squeezed Conner’s fingers as they threaded through the crowd of adolescent bodies. Through the curtain of her hair, Rose watched the ebb and flow of the tide of people, gaze flickering to register potential threats, weapons, escape routes – all the things a trained mercenary cared about. She had to remind herself that assassin wasn’t the role she was currently playing, forcing herself to relax and draw closer to the Superboy. She wrapped herself close against his side, offering him half a smile, her blind eye turned out towards the world in a way that made her adrenaline spike.

 _A dark dockside. Shipping containers. Storm overhead. Blood on the pavement. Don’t you fucking die on me now, I won’t allow it. Indistinct figures in black tactical gear swarming over the ground._ Rose slowly blinked her eye, shaking the vision from her head. They were more common now, the adrenaline fueling a gift her father had never expected her to demonstrate. It gave her an edge, but it was also a distraction. She bit her lip. “Sorry, did you say something? I think I was daydreaming for a second there.”

"Uh... Yeah... Well anyway…” Conner floundered, perhaps set off balance by her lack of attention. Apparently the clone shared more than just the physical traits of an attractive teen. He had their inability to process not being the centre of attention as well. “Back there, those rooms are the most interesting ones you'll find on here. Back to back, face to face. This hall is the best hall to be. Science Labs, Computer Labs, anything that has something other than a guy talking for an hour." It was fascinating how he tried to maintain the structure of actually giving her a tour. She already had the school schematics memorized, so it was completely unnecessary. It also was clearly making the boy- the clone, uncomfortable.

Conner proceeded with the rest of the tour, going through the double doors that would eventually lead them outside. The school wasn't huge, but it wasn't tiny either. There was a wide open area for campus activities. A parking lot, a football field, and a covered court nearby. "So _this_ is the place to be. It's quiet. Especially during class. Good view too. On the left is the parking lot, on the right somewhere is a small football field.” They paused for a moment, enjoying the feel of the great outdoors, before he tugged on her hand.  “Now... the boring places. The upstairs."

Rose let a rough laugh escape, shaking her head so that her silvery hair caught the sun just right. “Farm Boy, you need to work on your tour guide skills. Always end on a high note.” She squeezed his hand, moving her body closer to his, pressing her curves against his side to catch his attention. “This was the showstopper, to keep going after that is just a travesty. Let’s leave the boring stuff aside, at least for now, just enjoy being out in the damn sunshine for once. It’s always so rainy in Seattle, nothing like this gorgeous weather.”

Going up on her toes, she brushes an enticingly chaste whisper of a kiss on his jaw, and then releases his hand, throwing herself down onto an appealing patch of grass and looking up. For the moment, she had sold herself on the role, perhaps too far. She’d forgotten about the patch over her ruined eye, and as her head tilted back against the ground, good eye closed as she smiled into the warm sun, she had momentarily left herself exposed. In an instant her instincts kicked in, and she shot up into a sitting position, leaning forward to cover her face with her hair again. Her body shook with emotion, rage at herself boiling inside. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She’d made a rookie mistake, and now she had to compensate. Never reveal anything until you were ready, Wilson. Fuck.

Biting her lip she focused on breathing, on getting a handle on her emotions. Her face was red with anger, but maybe if she was lucky the clone would assume it was embarrassment.


	5. Chapter 5

For the moment, Conner wasn't looking back. The double doors of the school building clicked shut behind them, but Rose could tell that her question had caught him off guard. "Huh? Why? Is he running?" The clone turned to peek through the glass window in the door, a strangled sound escaping him. "Yep he's running. We gotta go. Now! Go go go go!" Conner urged her to run by gently shoving her with a hand at the small of her back. She'd really done it now, but in her defence, the principal was an ass hat. They needed to run, but quietly as to not attract attention.

Rose fled down the hall on swift and nearly silent feet, her runners being slightly louder than the boots she usually wore when running and sneaking were on the agenda. Part of her wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the scenario. She wasn’t just some punk highschool kid running her mouth, she was a deadly assassin, sent to collect a dangerous experiment gone wrong. Though, if she were one hundred percent honest with herself, something she tried to avoid, she was starting to doubt that this job was completely on the up and up. The clone hadn’t displayed any warning signs, nor had he proven to be either aggressive or violent.

Too bad for him, personal morals were not a factor in the job at hand. She had accepted the gig, and she was bound to follow it through. That was the Wilson credo, after all. You pursued your goal until completion, emotionally distant and with as little effort as possible, and then moved on to the next target. She might not like her father, but she could admire his work ethic. Up ahead Rose saw a door swinging closed, as if someone had just opened it and gone through. Making a spur of the moment decision, she reached for Conner’s hand and yanked him towards the door, hissing a whisper to him. “In here, I think Captain Cranky is gaining on us.”

Into the storage room they went. The surprisingly roomy closet contained shelves of old crates and equipment. Nearest the door were cleaning supplies and the like, stuff used every day by the custodial staff. Further in, things got older, a layer of dust indicating they had remained undisturbed for quite some time. The clone seemed familiar with the area, a calmness settling over him as he tugged Rose in turn, dragging her back behind some crates.

The silver-haired assassin only let Conner drag her so far, digging in her heels as the darkness of the closet settled around them. Somewhere in the depths, a smidge of light shone through a small, dinghy window, casting weird shadows against the wall. She offered the clone a playful smile as she carefully extracted her hand from his. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken her hand, even if only to drag her off into some closet. It had left her feeling unsettled, so she removed the stimulus. She lowered her lashes, looking up at him through her curtain of hair.

“I have to say, Farm Boy, that that was rather exciting. Do you often flee irate institutional educators as an excuse to crawl into dusty old closets? There are easier ways to get a gal to sneak off for some necking, you know.” She let the humour spread to her eye, twinkling at him as she teased, even put a little purr into it. Inside though, she was already losing patience with this game. The façade of it all. It felt… wrong somehow. Not that that would stop her from completing her job. A Wilson always followed through. She would do what she was being paid for, no matter the bad taste it was starting to leave in her mouth.

Conner smiled in response, pressing one finger to his lips, indicating that Rose should keep her voice down. A frisson of irritation ran through her, but she brushed it aside. The gym teacher could be close by. "Growing up here, you learn that doing the easy thing isn't worth the reward. Doing something hard is a reward in and off itself." Lifting his hand to halt any sort of reply, from her, the clone tilted his head, listening. Footsteps echoed loud and clear as the teacher walked past their hiding spot. Finally, they could breathe.

Rose let out a quiet laugh, he had heard the teacher coming long before she had. Kryptonian hearing was supposed to be superior, and she guessed that she had her proof right there. She leaned against him, using her small size to her full advantage. Guys couldn’t seem to resist a small bundle of female. “How did you know that he was coming? I could barely hear anything through the thick closet door.” She kept her voice light, teasing, waiting to see how much, or how little, information the half-Kryptonian would be willing to give her. Sometimes people had ne sense of self-preservation, others were locked vaults when it came to personal secrets.

She placed one small, scarred hand on his chest, looking up at him through her hair, softening her facial expression. Her father had taught her that lying started with the eyes, with the little muscles in the cheeks, with the tension level of your body. He had made her practice the art of giving nothing away, but she had flourished here with this, with letting her body tell the untruths for her. Right now she wanted to look a little vulnerable, and a lot intrigued. Her teeth flashed with a small smile, her fingers lightly dancing across his pectorals. “I feel like a spy, or a superhero, hiding from the enemy after fleeing a battle. Relying on my partner’s extra-sensory powers to keep us safe.” She let out another small, teasing laugh. “Are you a superhero, Farm Boy? Hiding away in the middle of nowhere, pretending to be just an average high school student?”


	6. Chapter 6

Almost subconsciously, the clone began to pull her close to him, and she stifled a victorious grin. _Gotcha_. He was treating her like she was actually small and cuddly, like she was more than welcome in his arms. She knew it was an instinct, or a muscle memory kind of thing. It didn’t make being right any less satisfying. "I um... I heard him. Y'know, footsteps. It was quiet too so I can hear it."  Conner fumbled. As excuses went, it wasn't near the best attempt at it she’d ever heard. For a Kryptonian, he wasn’t that quick on his feet, mind, the big blue Boy Scout wasn’t known for telling tall tales either. Still, maybe it was from being a clone, or maybe it was all those hormones raging through his body, hormones she was deliberately attempting to rile. "Umm... well... I'm definitely a hero after saving you back there. What were you thinking? That was the principal!" She could almost hear the clone silently screaming in his head. He was so good it almost made her teeth ache, but it had to be a façade. The guys at the lab were certain he was an agent of destruction.

Rose chuckled again, smooth as silk as she grinned up at him. “I know. You gotta relax a little, farm boy. So he’s an adult in a position of authority, who cares? It’s all relative anyway. A flimsy façade hiding the real truth – they only have the power that we allow them. The ratio of us to them? Fifty to one if it’s a dozen. They can’t catch us all, turn us into good little automatons, doing nothing but what they program into us. Every small rebellion foments dissent amongst the masses, and eventually the masses will rise, shatter the class castle and prove where the real power is.”

She was getting too heated, too personal, she cooled her emotions with a slow breath, eye closed as she re-centred. Blinking up through her lashes, she gave a small embarrassed smile to Conner. Let him see some honest vulnerability, or was it just an act? Sometimes even she couldn’t tell any more. “Sorry. Sometimes I think I should have been born in a time of real revolution. I’ve got all this rebellion inside me, and no where to let it out.” _Lie_. Her internal voice taunted. _Half truth_. The piece inside of her that was painfully self aware rejoined. She had plenty of rebellion, but rebelling against her father and his expectations took careful planning. Otherwise… well, Grant and Joseph were proof enough that Slade didn’t tolerate straying from the family plan long.

Pushing away from the half-Kryptonian, she reached back and took his hand again. “Come on, we should hit the library and do some studying. Convince some of the faculty at least that I’m not a total hoodlum here to lead you from the straight and narrow down the crooked path of sin.” She gave him her sultriest smile, tugging lightly to get him to follow.

 ** _RIIIING!!_** Their interlude was interrupted by the cacophonous ringing of the dismissal bell. Conner stopped to check his watch, frowning, while Rose did her best to hide a smirk. Apparently he hadn’t noticed that their little adventure had taken them through most of the day. She had, but then again, she had orchestrated the time. Teenage boys, even clones of powerful aliens apparently, were so easy to distract. She gave him her approximation of a soft smile as confusion filled his eyes. Perhaps the clone was used to being more aware of his surroundings.

"Huh... well, we could always go tomorrow? Same time … after lunch?" His large farmer's hand grabs hers to pull himself up from the dirt that had gathered there over the years. Apparently no one felt that this particular storage room ever needed to see the bristly side of a broom. That worked for her, it mean that no one came here all that often. Once back on his feet, the clone kept hold of her hand, as if he couldn’t bear to let it go. She pressed her smaller palm against his, letting him feel the electric brush of skin on skin. She wasn’t a hand holder by nature, but she wanted him to be used to it, to be used to her. She wanted to be both fascinating, yet familiar. It was a delicate balance. If she was lucky, by the time she was done with him he’d be so far gone for her, he wouldn’t put up much of a fight.

She went up on tiptoes, her fingers still threaded through his, and brushed the smallest kiss across his cheek. It wasn’t passionate, her soft lips barely brushed over his skin, but when she caught his gaze hers held a promise, a promise of so much more. Letting the corner of her lip draw up into her trademark sardonic little smile, she reached behind her to turn the door handle, pulling Conner back out into the light. With a laugh she stumbled out into the throng of students rushing to hit their lockers and head home. As the press of bodies swelled and ebbed around them, she allowed his hand to slip out of hers.

Walking backwards, she watched as the mass of bodies pushed them further apart, and she raised her hand to her lips, pressing a kiss against her palm and blowing it towards the clone. With a wink, maybe not quite as effective when coming from a one-eyed individual, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned to travel in the direction of the students around her, her small stature making it easy to get lost in the crowd, even with her distinctive white locks. With a satisfied smile she bypassed the lockers, she had no intention of doing any actual schoolwork while she was here, and headed out into the small town sunshine. She had some leads to follow up on regarding some equipment, and she wanted to poke about a bit, see if she could contact the local bad element. Even an idealistic place like this had to have a scumbag or two slithering around who could give her the dirt on the runaway lab experiment.


End file.
